


The United States of Alfred

by Patchwork drabbles (PurplePatchwork)



Series: RusAme Drabbles [53]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-18 01:21:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7293706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurplePatchwork/pseuds/Patchwork%20drabbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred wants Ivan to call him by his first name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The United States of Alfred

“Are you going to finish your meal, _Amerika_?”

_There._ There it was again. America. The country he embodied. Not Alfred, or dearest or baby or whatever, not even a simple Jones. But America.

Blue eyes carefully observed the man before him, even as he declined the offer of more food with a simple gesture of the hand. The Russian Federation. Ivan Braginsky. His boyfriend, since several months now. Not that they were a very… typical couple. It had taken them years to get together, to start with. They had lived through wars and an amicable letter-writing phase and secret flirtation crushed under the giant boot of the twentieth century’s harsh reality. They had lived through so much, overcome so many obstacles, and here they were, finally allowed a taste of happiness.

Only, apparently that happiness wasn’t for themselves. It was for their countries.

“Say Russia,” he began, leaning his cheek against the palm of his right hand. “What would you do if I jumped off a cliff?”

A pale brow rose- he had both loved and hate the other’s quirks over the centuries, but that particular gesture always made something in his gut squeeze into a tight, jittery knot.

“And why would you do that, _Amerika_?” he spoke in that accented tongue of his- rough notes mixed in with odd high pitches, making for a musical ballad that beckoned for his soul.

“The question isn’t _why_ I do the things I do, it’s how you’d react to them, _Russia_ ,” Alfred pointed out, eyes shooting up and down his partner’s figure, searching for any reaction. When he didn’t get the ones he so desired, he pursued further discussion of the topic. “Or what, would Russia not catch his boyfriend if he were to fall to his death, Russia?”

The pale man rubbed at his temples, sending him a bemused smirk. “We are nations, Amerikanski. We cannot fall to our deaths. That would be very silly.”

Alfred frowned, growing agitated. “Well then RUSSIA, maybe I am just a silly little country, or a really big one- but I guess that’s all there is to me!”

“Amerika, what are you going on about?” Ivan sighed, brow scrunched together and a sudden tiredness falling over his face. “Fine. If you were to jump off a cliff, I would catch you. And then I would kick your butt you for doing such reckless things.”

Alfred always used to love when Ivan tried out American sayings and slang, it was hilarious to listen to. But right now, he only had ear for one particular word. Again, America. The name of his country. Not of himself.

He groaned, dropping his head to the table. What was with him? He should know it wasn’t easy for the both of them to simply go back to being on first name basis after so many years of distrust and rivalry! Surely they had used Alfred and Ivan in the past, when he was much younger and much more innocent, but even now he wondered if Ivan hadn’t only agreed to doing that to humour that silly young colony from across the sea. They _were_ countries, and nothing would ever change that. But sometimes, it just felt nice pretending to be humans instead.

A creaking sound, a rush of clothes, and suddenly there was a presence behind him. Alfred closed his eyes when he felt cold fingers ghost along his cheek.

“ _Amerika._ ”

He refused to open his eyes. The tone which he used was much more gentler than when he had called him that in the past, so much was true. But it was still not the name he wanted to hear fall from those thin lips, the name that would prove their current intimacy.

“What?” he spoke against the tabletop, trying to make it sound like he wasn’t pouting over something.

“There is something bothering you.”

“What are you talking about? No there’s not.”

“ _Da._ There is. I can tell. I have known you for long enough to be able to tell.”

The frown increased. _But apparently you haven’t known me long enough to call me by my actual name._

Some shifting, a pressure along his spine, hot breath at his ear. “Amerika… Is that really what bothers you?”

...He really needed to put a cork in his mouth sometimes. Shifting his head to the side so he could look Russia in the eye, he stubbornly denied any troubles. “No, nothing ever bothers me. I told you, I’m fine!”

Russia stared down at him with that familiar calmth, as if he was contemplating an ingenious idea. Alfred had seen it plastered on his features so many times, both in good and bad situations, both as an ally and a foe. That was a difference between them- Russia thought too much, while people often told Alfred he thought too little. Not that they actually took the time to get to know him, but he could see where they were coming from.

Long well-defined fingers carding through his golden locks, Alfred laid his head back down and closed his eyes, waiting for the preach that was bound to come, about how it was difficult to find trust after so much hardships, they had to give themselves timeeee, and yade yade yade. He didn’t want time, he wanted love and affection! And he knew Ivan was capable of it, he _knew._

No preach came. Instead of it, a soft pair of lips gingerly fluttering against his cheekbone, temple, earlobe. A soft chuckle.

“If you say so, Alfred.”

And then the pressure was gone.

Alfred shot up faster than the speed of light, staring at the other with wide eyes and hanging jaw, utterly befuddled. “Did you just- you did, didn’t you?”

Ivan merely smiled, one of those teasing sneers, yet eyes gentle. “You heard nothing, Amerikanski.”

Alfred took a moment longer to recover, before his own lips twitched up in a grin. “Oh yeah you did!”

Ivan giggled, walking back to his own seat so he could begin emptying the table to make room for dessert. “My lips are sealed~”

Yet they didn’t stay sealed when Alfred continued to say his name in every possible manner he could think of.


End file.
